Faith
by piratesmiley
Summary: Crews/Reese. "She didn’t want him to let go."


A/N: Thanks to Zaedah for editing with uber-speediness and maximum awesomeness. :)

Spoilers: Slight ones for One, but it goes AU pretty quickly.

Disclaimer: I don't own Life.

* * *

She didn't understand.

Maybe she wasn't supposed to. Maybe Crews had a plan, and maybe that plan involved leaving her in the dark.

Maybe. Not likely. They usually thought these things up together.

They went on with their slow trek, and she was too busy being confused to immediately realize that he wasn't going to turn around and follow her when they met in the middle. She grasped his hand but he let go and grabbed her face instead, palms on her cheeks, forcing her eyes to his. He was anxious; she could feel the tension in his fingers. She was so stunned that she almost didn't hear Roman's yells: "No touching!"

_Too late,_ she didn't want him to let go.

Crews didn't move away. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, smiling in that way he did when he had just discovered something new.

She liked being his discovery; they were linked inextricably from that moment on. Everything before that had been a precursor to a kind of togetherness she had never bothered imagining for herself but knew that it was right for her now anyway.

It may not seem it, but they were close, and maybe people not being able to tell was a way of keeping themselves a secret. _Just for us_. They distracted themselves futilely; they knew it wasn't necessary. They didn't need anybody else.

"It's going to be okay. I promise." His truth was urgent, calm, rough, smooth, put together in disarray, all at the same time. She was jarred to realize that this was how he handled goodbyes. "I have to go now."

Her eyes were wide. This was absurd. "Don't—"

"I have to bring you home, and this is the way to do it. You deserve the world; I have to give you back."

He was trying to make her understand, but it's a vain concept. She wasn't going to let go. At that point, she had nothing left, neither of them had anything left, and they were _good_ together. She had finally done something right – being his partner, protecting him – no matter how much she let her exterior deny it. He had been her punishment but now they, together, were redemption; her with a side of _I really wish I didn't like him so much_, and it suited her.

But there was new language barrier that popped in suddenly just to shake things up: she was speaking English, and he was speaking senselessness.

Roman gave them another warning. This was getting dangerous.

"I have to go now. I don't know how long it'll be, but I promise you, Dani Reese, I will come back. I _will_ come back."

She tried to stop it, but her ever-denied and blatantly fresh tears were relieved, spilling out of her eyes and onto his hands.

A shot went off suddenly and she jumped in fear, heart beating faster instantaneously. But for the first time in years she thanked God; it was just a warning shot.

And that was it. She should have, could have, done anything, said _something_ … but he was walking away from her, despite his lovely promises, forever.

She had to keep moving.

The exchange of words lasted all of sixty seconds, but it had enough of an effect to cloud a sinking despondency and a marred hopelessness over the rest of her life.

--

Until today.

Today is the day he returns, and it sneaks up on her and hits her over the head with a ridiculously large mallet, the kind she remembers from Saturday morning cartoons, and it removes her rational brain function from her head. It then decides to "lose" her logic and rationale, throwing them both into a rain-darkened sewer.

It sneaks up on her because she doesn't think he's coming back.

Frankly, she had used up all of her believing in him three long years prior while waiting for a rescue and she had spent every minute thinking about what would happen when he came. Because at the time, she was sure. She knew that he would save her.

But the two of them have never had the greatest luck in the world, so she doesn't believe anymore. She doesn't think that he can return, no matter how much he wants to.

And the three years that have gone by had made her exterior harder and colder, while her insides gelled and softened. She looks the same, her mannerisms and tendencies are the same, if not more brash, but _she is new_, born again into faith from the ashes of their partnership.

He too is new, and so ready. He catches her alone in the conference room as she waits for Tidwell and her seventh partner in his absence to go over another case. She is facing away, looking out the window, into bright sunlight that highlights her face and makes her a bit more angelic.

"Reese." He's playing tough.

So pure, so new and yet so familiar. His voice stops her heart, but only for a moment because she wants to _live_.

"I'm home."

She turns around.

And there he is, flesh and blood, mind and body and soul. Her personal savior, a convoluted guardian angel. They have been committed to the cause of their joint healing for five years now.

She didn't expect him to come back.

Unlike anything she had witnessed before: their specific brand of devotion encompasses the obsession of a teenaged love, the excitement of a young child on Christmas morning, the enveloping warmth of the night and the stars.

She wraps her arms around him and tries not to cry. She has a reputation to uphold, of course.

-

_One plus one is one. We even have a word for when you plus another equals one. That word is love._


End file.
